


Remember Me

by phoenixjustice



Series: The Kevin-Sami Playlist [4]
Category: Professional Wrestling, Ring of Honor, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Bray IS magical, He also is having none of Kevin's shit, Kayfabe Compliant, M/M, Magical Realism, time travel?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-06-10 02:51:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6936142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixjustice/pseuds/phoenixjustice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kevin Owens/Sami Zayn.</p><p>Set Pre-Payback 2016.</p><p>"Know this, Kev," Wyatt says, in his own voice. "I don't do this for you. I do it for Sami. He may not be my friend in this world, or that other one, but he is in another. And maybe he'll be in this one as well. Even he never becomes that, it doesn't matter--he deserves this." "Even if you don't."</p><p>Part Four of The Kevin-Sami Playlist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remember Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mithen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mithen/gifts).



Remember Me

By: PhoenixJustice

Disclaimer: The wrestlers own themselves, the gimmicks are owned by WWE/NXT. I only own this story and make no profit from this.

Pairing: Kevin Owens/Sami Zayn.

Setting: Pre-Payback 2016.

Summary: "Know this, Kev," Wyatt says, in his own voice. "I don't do this for you. I do it for Sami. He may not be my friend in this world, or that _other_ one, but he is in another. And maybe he'll be in this one as well. Even he never becomes that, it doesn't matter-he deserves this." "Even if you don't."

A/N: Title from the song of the same name by Hoobastank.

Part Four of _The_ _Kevin-Sami Playlist_.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

_Uno_

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Four days...four until they'd-they'd settle things, one way or the other.

He can still remember it, the shock hitting him as he immediately recognizes that music and instantly electricity runs through his veins, even before seeing that it is indeed Sami in the Rumble. Their fists start striking one another and all he can think of is _finally_.

Sami had been injured for months-despite what anyone else said-by his hands. And even if it was a little sick to think of, he had been looking _forward_ to that time. Every time they laid their hands upon one another it was like everything else went away and it was just them to in that ring, in the back, wherever they happened to be at the time.

When Sami had railed against him at Wrestlemania, costing him his Intercontinental title, he had replied in kind with a powerbomb through a table in the backstage of Raw. All he can hear is his own breathing after he does so, his eyes only having eyes for Sami as he lay crumpled on the splintered wood. He only vaguely feels hands against him, trying to lead him away. It's difficult, but they manage.

And it hadn't ended there. Now they'd face each other again-one on one-for the first time since NXT.

No.

They _had_ wrestled each other then, but they hadn't _faced_ each other then. No, this was...this was different.

They were going to face each other since _then_ , _that_ night, way back in 2010. A Final Battle, indeed. But it hadn't been final. He just had to make sure that _this_ time was final. Maybe then he could dream dreams other than ones where he is covered in blood, marking Sami's skin like he was his canvas.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

He only has moments to feel like _something_ is off, when someone speaks off to his right.

"You look lost, friend."

Instantly his hackles rise up. Wyatt. What the fuck did he want? He turns to glare at the man, uncaring if the man was surrounded by his lackeys (Family? Ha. He knew lackeys when he saw it. Knew the kind of man Bray Wyatt was, needing to surround himself with someone, always, to make himself feel-)

But. No. He was not surrounded by anyone. He stood alone, slightly obscured by the lack of light in his immediate vicinity, but Kevin could still make out enough of the man; large beard, stupid smile, even stupider Hawaiian shirt.

"If I ever need help, Wyatt, I'll be _sure_ to make sure that you're the first to know." He says, sarcastically. "And don't ever call me your _friend_ again." He notches up his glare, making his _un_ intentions known. He turns to leave. He actually gets a few steps before Wyatt speaks again.

"What was your dream this time, Kev? Was it painting his skin or was it trying to get absolution when you kiss him with your bloody mouth?"

He stiffens. He turns and sees Wyatt nearly in front of him (when had he moved? He didn't hear any footsteps. While the man was _freaky_ , he felt it stupid to buy into the man's tricks.)

"Shut your fucking mouth." He growls. He didn't know how the man could _possibly_ hit that close to the truth, but he wouldn't let it bother him. "What? Get your rocks off watching matches like that? Not surprised."

Wyatt doesn't look bothered by his glare or his words. He looked quite serious, actually, if Kevin was being honest. He almost felt unnerved by it, in a way that Wyatt's genial smiles or more darker smiles never get to him.

"Or," Wyatt continues, as if he didn't get interrupted by an angry Kevin Owens. "Was it the dream where you're sitting in your locker room before the match with the Young Bucks? When you kept thinking of just _grabbing_ Sami and-"

He sees red. He grabs onto Wyatt's stupid shirt, pushing him up against a wall. Wyatt's face remains impassive.

"Shut up." He yells in his face. "You have _no_ fucking idea, what-"

" ' _You okay, Kev? You look a little pale. I mean...I know it's a big match. But we've dealt with big matches before. The Young Bucks won't know what hit them-though it'll be my boot!'_ "

His face pales, staring at Bray dumbfounded.

That was _not_ Bray Wyatt's voice coming out of Wyatt's mouth...it was Sami's.

"What-" He says bewildered. "What the fuck _was_ that, Wyatt!?" He shakes the man. "What was it?! What kind of fucking trick-"

He pauses, grip slackening on Wyatt's clothes as his vision starts to blacken.

"Know this, Kev," Wyatt says, in his own voice. "I don't do this for you. I do it for Sami. He may not be my friend in this world, or that _other_ one, but he is in another. And maybe he'll be in this one as well. Even he never becomes that, it doesn't matter-he deserves this."

"Even if you don't."

The last thing he sees is Wyatt's face looking down at him, with a look on his face he cannot comprehend.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

The first thing he notices is pain.

He swings wildly, head still reeling. He falls to a knee, wincing in pain, clutching his head. His head was pounding and his knee was _killing_ him. He hadn't felt such nagging pain in his knee in a long time.

He blinks hard against the light-had someone brought in some lights from the interview area in the back? Once his eyes start to adjust, they widen. He was in a locker room. How the fuck...

Wyatt.

It had to be him. But why mess with him and then leave him in a locker room? It didn't look like the locker rooms he had seen earlier in the day, but it was a pretty big arena so it'd be stupid to assume they might all be the same. _Something_ was prickling in the back of his mind, but he ignores it.

He manages to get back up, though not without a grimace. It's then he looks down.

"What the f-"

He was no longer in his shorts, but a singlet. What sort of sick fuck _was_ Wyatt? Knock him out, _change his clothes_ , then toss him into a locker room? Then again, he supposed it was futile to try and understand just what went through someone like Bray Wyatt's head-if anything did at all.

He starts to make his way gingerly over to the door, still wincing at the pain in his knee. He hadn't felt pain in them _this_ bad since...

He closes his eyes. No, he mustn't think of _that_ now. He was already not one hundred percent and who _knew_ where Wyatt might be-might be outside of the door, for all he knew-so it would be best to _not_ think of blood and of masks and of-

He pauses as he nears the door, seeing a long mirror to his right. He glances at it and stops, taking a second take, unable to believe what he was seeing. He was dressed as he was _back then_. But even that, as crazy as it was, wasn't what was making him look into the mirror with such shock.

_He_ was looking _exactly_ like he did in 2009.

The door opens and he startles. He whirls, gritting his teeth to ignore the pain, and-

"Man, if I have to keep running into the Bucks' smug freaking faces _one_ more time..."

-looks right into the face of Sami. No... _El Generico._

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

It's like the biggest slap in the face, stunning him.

"What the _fuck_ are you doing?!" He shouts, feeling that familiar rip-rip of pain shoot through him; a familiar pain, much more deep and usual than any pain in his knee or the rest of his body.

Sami stops, looking at him in obvious confusion (even with the mask on.) "What do you mean, Kev? What's wrong?"

The casual, _friendly_ , "Kev" only rakes the fire deeper in him, a brand searing into him. He points with a shaking hand-though whether from anger or something else, even he couldn't say-at Sami's mask. " _That_." He didn't know what sick fucking joke Wyatt did, but the fact that _Sami_ had gotten in on it too...

Sami grabs at the bottom of his mask. "Oh! It's the color isn't it? I _told_ you I was getting the red one cleaned. All the dried blood inside kept flaking off and it kept irritating my skin. Did you forget already?" But Sami didn't sound mad; he just sounded a bit amused.

"Right." He says flatly. "Sorry. My bad."

Sami frowns at him, walking over to him. He touches Kevin's shoulder, concern in his gaze, and Kevin can feel the breath leaving him. It had been a very long time since he had felt a touch from Sami Zayn that didn't end in pain. He doesn't know whether to shrug it off or throw him off. He can do neither.

"I know it sucks." Sami says. He peers closer at Kevin. "You okay, Kev? You look a little pale. I mean...I know it's a big match. But we've dealt with big matches before. The Young Bucks won't know what hit them-though-"

"It'll be your boot." He says numbly.

Sami stops in the middle of his sentence, smile fading. "Uh...yeah. That's right. I was going to say that! It was like you read my mind." He grabs Kevin's face, looking at him with concern. "Are you _sure_ you're okay?"

The touch of Sami's hands on his face is like a brand, searing into his body, his soul. It's that very thing that brings him back out of his stupor.

"I'm fine." He says, lying unblinkingly. He was used to saying lies to Sami, had learned how to be able to look away from the things he wanted to keep buried so far down that even he could no longer see them. "Just tired."

Sami pulls back. "Ah! I know; gotta be the knee, right? I _told_ you to let me help you with it before the match. Let's get back and you can rest it." He points a finger at Kevin, as if Kevin starts to say something. "And I don't wanna hear any back talk from you about it, mister."

Kevin puts up his hands, playing along. "Fine, fine. Don't want to hear you bitch at me the whole night, anyhow."

Sami pouts and Kevin uses his special skill-that he had learned over hard years-to look at Sami while _not_ looking at him.

"And here I'm trying to help." Sami sniffs.

Kevin shrugs, plastering on a smile (that he most certainly did _not_ feel.)

He could play along, for as long as it took to get out of this mess.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

The ache in his knee lessens after getting back to their motel room and getting a shower. He still didn't feel all quite here. And he didn't want to; this all had to be some sort of weird delusion by Wyatt, forcing him to look at things he'd rather keep buried so deep down it never could come back up, that he could forget it had ever been there.

So now he'd sleep. He'd deal with Sami's chatter before bed, put it out of his thoughts, and sleep. He'd wake up and everything would get put back to right.

He could hate Sami like he had been.

Could put his hands on him like before. Could expect the same from Sami. Brutal, not the light _happy_ touches that this illusion of past Sami's hands tried to convey to him.

Everything would be how it had to be was.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

He awakens, groaning, feeling he got barely any sleep at all. An alarm was blaring.

"Wake up, sleepyhead; we got to get some training in before our match later! We'll never beat the Young Bucks at this rate if we can't even beat the other teams first!"

His eyes pop open.

Sami looks down at him, wide smile on his face.

And Wyatt's words instantly come back to him:

_"Know this, Kev," Wyatt says, in his own voice. "I don't do this for you. I do it for Sami. He may not be my friend in this world, or that other one, but he is in another. And maybe he'll be in this one as well. Even he never becomes that, it doesn't matter-he deserves this." "Even if you don't."_

It hits Kevin like a ton of bricks.

_He was still here._

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

A/N: This is dedicated to mithen. Our conversations about _that_ match during Final Battle 2010 as well as just in general with Sami and Kevin's feud in the past and the like inspired me to write this. This is obviously just the first part, so there WILL be more, but I definitely wanted to state what got me to want to write this.

I hope you enjoyed this!

Let me know what you thought!

-PhoenixJustice


End file.
